


Bread and Butter

by OccasionalStorytelling



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: AU, baby children, enjolras is made of revolution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:43:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4104676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalStorytelling/pseuds/OccasionalStorytelling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Jean Val Jean accidentally adopts Eponine, thinking she is Cosette. Eventually Cosette runs away from the home of her abusive family, and who might she meet but Enjolras? May or may not be better than original story. No promises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bread and Butter

**Author's Note:**

> Will probably lead to an Enjolras and Grantaire love story. SPOILERS: most characters that died will survive, but I'm not saying which ones!

“That was _your_ brat, Eponine! Don’t you know your own kid?” Mrs. Thenardier was screaming.

“What? I coulda sworn…” Mr. Thenardier said, swaying from side to side.

“There is a _time and a place_ for being absolutely wasted, and that time is when _I’m_ collecting the tips! Not when you’re selling our daughter!”

“No, dear, ’s fine, I got ridda the stupid one, the one whose mum is sending us money!”

“No, no you most certainly did not!” The slap almost shook the innkeeper out of his drunken daze. Almost. “That was _our_ kid, you blithering—!”

The argument went on and on. It was pretty one sided, considering that Mr. Thenardier was still too drunk to understand what was happening and why it was such a problem that the rich gentlemen had bought their daughter and run away. Cosette shrank away into the background, holding her doll. She was only 6. She wore only rags, and she was covered in dirt. She slumped away into the yard towards her favorite hay bale. It was the least scratchy one and was only sometimes covered in horse poo. She curled up and held the doll close as she tried to sleep. The shouting in the background got louder.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

The shouting in the background was dying down. Cosette wondered if it was safe to go back inside the house to finish the chores. She was 10. She adjusted her doll in her scrap of a belt for luck, and took the water inside.

Mr. Thenardier was skulking behind the counter with someone else’s coat. Mrs. Thenardier was pacing, looking for a fight. This was not a good time to be in the house.

“ _ **YOU!**_ ” The rage boiled over. “Where _have_ you been? I told you to get the water from the well!”

“I got it right here, ma’m,” Cosette said. She shrank away.

“ _Did I give you permission to speak?_ ” Mrs. Thenardier yelled. She grabbed the bucket and tossed the freezing water over Cosette’s head. “Look what you’ve done, you _pig!_ ”

Cosette backed up, trying to say “I’ll go back, I’ll get more, I’ll do whatever you want, _please_ , just—”

“You blasted _IDIOT!_ ” came the screech. “What have you got here?” And evil smirk came over the woman’s face as she grabbed Cosette’s doll.

Cosette screamed and fell to the ground. Mrs. Thenardier laughed as she tore the remains of the ragged doll to shreds. “BACK OUT TO THE WELL!” Mrs. Thenardier screamed. Cosette bolted from the door to the woods, crying. Mrs. Thenardier might have gone after her with the bucket, and then the whole thing might never have happened. Seething rage: “YOU FORGOT THE—”

“Dear?” Sloshed the innkeeper from behind the bar. “I’ve spilled all over the money.”

“WHY YOU INSUFFERABLE—”

The yelling died away slowly as Cosette ran farther and farther into the woods. Her tears blurred her vision and long before she could reach the well she tripped on a tree root and fell on her face. Her knee skidded and turned red, and dirt burned her eyes. Cosette wanted to lay there and never get up, but someone was coming. She wanted to run but she was too worn out.

A small, dirty boy with a shock of curly blond hair came into her sight. “Wot you doin’ out here, then?”

Cosette could barely speak from crying. “Ma’m tore up… my favorite…” She broke down sobbing, and the boy bent over and hugged her.

“That’s not fair at all,” the boy fussed. He tore a strip off his shirt and passed it to her. “Put this on your knee, maybe. I dunno if it’ll help.” Cosette accepted the offering, sniffling a little, but sitting up.

“My name’s Enjolras,” the boy smiled. “What’s yours?”


End file.
